


lame duck

by eunwol



Series: dream smp drabbles and such [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Written Pre-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29443053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eunwol/pseuds/eunwol
Summary: Tommy would never be president.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: dream smp drabbles and such [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162712
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	lame duck

**Author's Note:**

> lame duck: noun; an official (especially the president) in the final period of office, after the election of a successor.  
> \---  
> as the tag states, this was written october 7th, pre-finale-- so before november 16th. as such, there's no mention of philza or techno's withers or anything else regarding the official canon. 
> 
> this is from a small au, where wilbur does press the button, but lives. however, since the fic doesn't explore any of the canon divergence, i chose to tag this as canon compliant

Tommy would never be president.

Wilbur had been mulling on this thought for a while. Even if they could overthrow Schlatt, take back the leadership, he wouldn't allow for it.

At 16 he had no restraint: he whined too much; dragged his feet across the cold stone ground; complained as Wilbur chastised him. He ran his mouth off at anyone, even at his own allies.

And he was naïve.

He still believed in good, believed in his shaky faith in others. It was obvious in the way he crouched under the rocky cliffs near L'Manberg, devising some outlandish plot with Tubbo; the way he lead Technoblade to the entrance of the ravine; or the way he wordlessly accepted the gifts that Dream brought. He would never come to realize his role in greater plans, only foolishly living on as a pawn in someone else's hands.

Wilbur used to play his part, too. He'd accepted the election results with grace, quietly built his new nation underground, and prayed under the yellow lanternlight. He had watched his disloyal son tear down the flag, the tricolore engulfed in black smoke and red flames. He saw the way the the others tried (and _oh_ , how they tried) to gain his trust, watched them whisper to him in secrecy how they wanted to help, to just wait for the right moment: false promises waiting to be broken, silvery words from one traitor to another.

In the end he saw right through it.

Dream tosses him nearly a stack of TNT, his gaze unwavering even through the mask. Wilbur already knows what he wants.

* * *

The burnt landscape lay torn in front of them, the exposed earth left in ugly scars amongst the debris. There was nothing left to even rebuild from.

And for the first time in forever, Wilbur felt free. There was a sense of clarity born from the destruction. Manberg-- _L'Manberg_ \--was gone. 

It was his own hand that ignited the bombs: his own hand, his own trap, his own people.

Tommy would never be president, now.

Good.

**Author's Note:**

> tyvm for reading!
> 
> kudos/comments appreciated


End file.
